Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion When the Cherries Blossom | EE Dominion of Lanteeb

Objective 1A: Mingle with the aristocracy.
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Gildenweave Suit, Shadow Mask
Writing With: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Post Number V
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Testing his reaction, was she? Given the topic, it was fair enough - besides, in this instance he had nothing to hide, for his interest was purely academic. "Quite. Much like the Blackwing Virus, the galaxy would be better off if a permanent solution was to be found."

Noting the shifting conversation - and quite happy not to discuss the annoyances of rebellion any further - he smiled warmly. "Feel free, I'm not one to stand on ceremony unnecessarily." Sometimes not even when it was expected, but he was sociable enough to know when to defy expectations.

Chuckling softly at her question, he met her gaze - or would have, were it not for the shadowy mask. "I will admit that work sometimes bleeds over in my spare time - I had a fully equipped alchemical lab installed on my yacht, for instance - but when I truly wish to relax? A good book, a swim, and, as you have very likely heard if you have a dossier on me, various carnal pursuits."

Smiling wickedly, the shadows retracted long enough for him to wink. "I am especially fond of Zeltros - right under the Silver Jedi's noses and yet they have no legal grounds to apprehend me... and even if they tried, my lawyers would stall as I discreetly depart. Drives them mad, I imagine."
 

Azazel Taliss

Guest
A
Objective: Noble Ball - Asses the possible Thread
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Rifle, Formal Attire (Military)
Tags: Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe AMCO AMCO Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Krae Krae

The crowd had gone full circle by this point, food and drink partaken, mingling continuing. All this time, Azazel had kept his eyes on the little fat man. If reports were correct, there were rebels on this planet, and no doubt they had pawns in the Noble houses of Lanteeb. There was no doubt in Azazel's mind, this man was a pawn of rebel scum, looking to hurt his emperor and empire. So far the things Azazel witnessed with this fat man continued to solidify his concerns.

The fat man had quickly moved from the gentleman he had been conversing with, made a quick call on his comlink that seemed very hush hush, and was even handed something by a taller man who seemed to have just passed by the round one. The man had been drinking a lot too, no doubt in need of liquid courage to even attempt anything more than eat fattening foods, and lazily lounging about.

The round one finally cracked, all the drinking going to his bladder. He made his way to the restrooms for the public, Azazel following behind him.

Inside the the restroom, all was empty but the round man heading into a stall as Azazel went to the sinks. There was the sound of whimpering and mumbling from the man's stall and then a peeping sound. The sound of a datapad, then some more mumbling and whimpering. While the datapad could be anything, it was in Azazel's mind, the evidence he needed to prove the man a rebel traitor.

Having no more patience, Azazel turned to the stall, the muscles in his body tensing as he prepare for his next action. A loud thud and crack echoed as Azazel's foot smashed into the door of the stall, the round man had simply looked at him with wide eyes and paled skin. Datapad in hand, Azazel took it to read.

There was a report of the outcome outside the residence, a battle between Empire soldiers and rebel losers. Of course the Empire had won. Then came what he needed. A order, a very specific order. The datapad was set to self destruct, killing the fat man once he was near the emperor enternal. Azazel's reaction was quick, his fist smashing into the mask of the Fatman, breaking it and his nose. Azazel flipped the datapad over, removing all power circuits and anything that would allow it to receive a signal.

Azazel grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him out of the restroom, blood making a trail from his running nose.

"My emperor," Azazel called out as the guests gasped and screamed at the sight. "A traitor my emperor, a rebel. With assassination orders." Azazel finished his sentence as he finally ended the dragging of the fat man before his emperor and took a bow. The Ultranaut bowed before the emperor who was conversing with another.

Daddy Bear, forgive my interruption. I bring you an assassin."

Azazel's heart stopped realizing his mistake. His emotions, adrenaline, and more was running rampant. Unknown to Azazel, he was Force touched, and the memories of before had deeper meaning than just some random recounter.

"M-my emperor..." His body trembled in an attempt to correct himself. Whatever would come next was probably Azazel's execution along with the fat rebel.
 
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Objective: Festivals - Noble Ball
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb
Attire: Uniform | Sword
Attn: Vyra Silara Vyra Silara || Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim || AMCO AMCO Interacting With: Krae Krae || Azazel Taliss


The Emperor listened to the Vran'ti's explanation, weighing every detail, every pro and con before making a comment. "<The creature's level of intelligence must be high enough for it to show basic puzzle-solving capabilities, yes, such as navigating complex environments like buildings, ventilation shafts and so on. It must also be intelligent enough to comprehend semi-complex commands and be capable of basic planning in order to increase its chances of carrying out a mission successfully, displaying abilities such as knowing when to sneak. It must also have a level of telepathic ability high enough to convey images and sounds to Force Sensitive personnel, acting as a sort of remote transmitter for basic espionage.>"

"<The Boar-wolf sounds like an adequate enough candidate, although the matter of the Force sensitivity required for the necessary telepathic ability may be a problem. The solution may be to select a Force sensitive species, such as a Tuk'ata and splice the Boar-wolf's genetics onto it, altering its body plan and anatomy, but retaining the Force sensitivity,>"
he suggested. "<Tuk'ata specimens may be more difficult to procure, but we have contacts in various organizations that may be able to help with that. I would suggest you discuss the matter with Broka the Hutt Broka the Hutt , his organization may be able to help in this regard. Anzats and Iktotchi, unfortunately, will not be possible to procure, as the former are notoriously rare and the latter reside in Confederate space, which is off-limits due to political considerations. We certainly have neither amongst our prisoner population and if any do reside within Imperial space, none are currently detained for any crimes.>"

Before he could continue the conversation, however, there was a commotion as one of the soldiers dragged in a corpulent noble who suffered from a broken nose. "<An assassin? Well, I was wondering when the dissident nobles were going to make a move,>" he said, seemingly unphased by the sudden development. Looking at the prisoner as one might regard a rat, he added. "<Oh, yes. The local governor has informed us of your little schemes. Your co-conspirators have already been rounded up, of course, but we suspected some had managed to slip through our fingers.>"

"<Have this man taken in for questioning,>"
Tacitus instructed the soldier ( Azazel Taliss ), making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "<If he has any valuable information, Blackwatch will pry it out of him. Oh, and private,>" he continued, his mind trying to figure out what the Ultranaut's little slip had been all about, concluding it was probably the result of a prank pulled on him by his squadmates. "<Imperial Ultranauts are required to adhere to a certain level of proper etiquette. Make sure to report to your commanding officer and inform him that you have been assigned to latrine duty for a week. Dismissed,>" he said.

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Interacting With: Vidalu Na'an Vidalu Na'an || LE-03 (Leigh) LE-03 (Leigh) Attn: Karma Jayne Karma Jayne || OPEN

The Firebird reverted from Hyperspace above Lanteeb, receiving the usual hails from local traffic control, exchanging IFF tags and being assigned a number in the fairly large queue of ships that were trying to land on the planet. It was always like that, when some planet like this one held some local festivity, no matter how large or popular. There would always be just one more ship than the local authorities could handle, creating waiting lines that could sometimes take hours to move, though in this case, the Lanteebians seemed to do a fairly good job at hurrying each ship along.

The hustle and bustle of such events weren't really his style, but he had been told to meet with the rebels here and he could understand why. It was easy to get lost in crowds such as these, making it more difficult for prying eyes and ears to inconvenience those who wanted to conduct business away from the attention of the authorities. Besides, he did promise Karma he'd take her somewhere nice after Endor.

Finally, the freighter was assigned a landing pad somewhere down near the festivities, though he did not know if this was just random chance, or if the rebels had something to do with it. From his brief encounters with their organization, he could tell that they were far better organized and more resourceful than the Empire gave them credit for.

Stepping out of the cockpit, he decided to let Karma know they landed, but, hearing the sound of the running shower coming from their shared room, he decided against interrupting her, taking a left turn instead, into the armory, strapping on his regular blaster pistol and checking the lightsaber stowed away in its holster, strapped to his forearm and discretely hidden under the sleeve of his coat.

Walking down the freighter's cargo ramp, he leaned against its hull, a bored expression on his face. He had not been told how to contact the rebels, which was indicative that they had proper security protocols in place and also meant they would know where to find him. All he could do now, was wait for his contact to arrive.

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It was surprising, Leigh reflected, how beautiful some of the worlds in the Unknown Regions could be. The stories that filtered through to the Core were always somewhat filtered by the fact that they were being written for Core readers, who thought themselves the bastion of galactic civilization. As a result, most of the tales outside the local holonet painted the entire sector as no-man's land, a series of lawless wasteland planets populated by savages and slavers--the kinds of stories that painted a picture of something exciting but altogether forbidding.

Although she had encountered several such wastelands in the last year, the droid had decided it was not a fair stereotype. The Unknown Regions were dangerous, especially for those who wished to live there freely, but there were spots of beauty here and there.

Lanteeb, she decided, was one of those spots. Perhaps protecting it was why they were welcoming the Empire with open arms.

The droid dawdled at a local vendor, absorbing the sights with a carefully blank dome. Their arrival had coincided with a local festival marking the coming of spring to the planet; the main street held a relaxed, almost lazy air to it as the town's residents traversed from booth to booth. From somewhere nearby, she could hear the twang of some local stringed instrument; not the chaotic jangle of the more urban parts of the center, but something slow and easy. Above all, everything seemed to heavily feature the cherry trees that seemed to be the town's pride. Food made with the fruit and flowers and bark were heavily featured, meats were smoking over the fragrant wood, and even the streets were lined with the pale silky petals. If she could smell like an organic would, she could imagine the entire city smelling incredible.
As she observed, she catalogued the details of the festival with a mild concern. This was not the first time the Empire timed their acquisition of a world with the world's own local celebrations, in an attempt of presenting themselves as heroes worth celebrating rather than conquerors meant to be scrutinized. It was a tactic that worked better than it had any right too, especially on worlds as isolated as Lanteeb where news was rare. However, there was the hope that this tactic would be one with increasingly diminishing returns. The locals seemed to be giving her a wide berth already, and even the vendor she was paying seemed to eye her with suspicion. Did they know more than the government was letting on?

It would be worth investigating, if they could do it without suspicion. But, as some moron on the fringes had already acted without orders, trying something as stupid as an assassination attempt, any intel would have to be gathered strictly on the ground. The Voice of Abbaji had opted to lock down on giving any directives more pressing than that, given the security concerns.

Besides, LE-03 had other things to attend to.

Cup in hand, the droid made her way to the park on the far edge of the street, placing it on a nearby table. With her now-free hand, she nudged it it towards the human sitting there watching the festivities. The human did not look up, her eye fixed on a gap in the nearby forest edge.
"If you are so fascinated by the hunters," she said smoothly, "It would not be out of the question for us to join them. The Empress is otherwise occupied, and we are not on assignment."

 
Wanderer Lost, Wanderer Found
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"Are you kidding? In this getup? I wouldn't have to worry about the Emperor murdering me. The Empress would throttle me first."
Na'an gestured to the suit she was wearing with a mocking grin before reaching for the cup. The smile, however, was quickly cut off by one, then two, then a third spoonful of thick pink cream went into her open mouth. The existence of this town's cherry-blossom doroon had been filtering through the palace for weeks, sending the handmaidens into a tizzy. But the handmaidens were the ones who had to do their duty today, staying by the Empress' side at her beck and call. Na'an was the one who got herself a taste.
She swallowed the third spoonful with a little moan, hovering the fourth at eye-level to appreciate the sheen. "Not that I mind," she said thickly. "It's actually a pretty subdued choice for her, all things considered. I'm glad she considered pants for once. And it's nice to have the excuse to not run off and start killing things. Endor..."

Her grip tightened on the cup; it crumpled slightly, the cold doroon spilling over the edge and onto her fingers. Her eyes turned back towards the treeline, where she could spot figures ghosting back and forth between the gaps in the blossoms.
"Endor wasn't fun. And I'd only just stopped dreaming about Bakura."
 
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"I haven't."

Adelle set down two glasses of iced fragrant tea at the small table, tugging at the cuffs of her own suit and feeling a tad overdressed compared to Na'an. Ordinarily, she rather liked having an excuse to wear something nicer than a tanktop and trousers or a uniform, but since the Empire had conquered yet another world . . . She didn't feel like celebrating. As the Empress' personal doctor and an on-call Imperial medic though, she still had to look the part. Adelle pulled a chair up to the table and sat, pushing at one of the cups with a finger.

"I'm beginning to think the Empire doesn't do fun," she said quietly. "They just hijack it."

She smiled with a little mischief, fondly remembering another festival that seemed like ages ago. "We could always go crash the fancy party and shock them with a dance again."



Vidalu Na'an Vidalu Na'an | LE-03 (Leigh) LE-03 (Leigh) | Will Westender Will Westender | Karma Jayne Karma Jayne | Vyra Silara Vyra Silara
 
Objective: BYOO

Sneaking. It was what Lori was GREAT at doing. All one needed to do was to ask her twin brother, Caedyn Arenais or even K Kaine Australis . Lori had set little traps for each of them, often fully around them while they were sleeping. And it was hilarious!! For her anyways.

Now she had snuck onto Lanteeb. The Jaster's Sparrow was known to the Eternal Empire by now, and so she used her little training fighter instead. With no weapons on it, the ship was hardly a threat. Fortunately it's shields made up for the lack of weaponry.

Lori wasn't without Arla, however. Her co-pilot and bodyguard stuck to her like glue. At times Lori found it annoying, yet she understood why Kaine created her. Lori often found herself knee deep in trouble and she needed what help she could get. It's not as though she was some powerful Jedi like the men in her family.

After gaining clearance, Lori landed her fighter near Will Westender Will Westender 's vessel. Her brows furrowed as she studied it for a moment, recognizing it from some other encounter in the nearby systems. But of course that could just be coincidence.

She opened up the canopy and climbed out, jumping the last few feet. Instead of wearing her Rebel armour, Lori was dressed up like a spacer, one armed with a blaster of course. Her hair was kept down this time, instead of braided. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she strolled on by Will with Arla in tow. The man looked bored to death. "Waiting for someone? Or is a party atmosphere not your thing?"
 

Azazel Taliss

Guest
A
Objective: Return to Captain and clean them toilets for a week
Last Post

With what dignity he had left after such a disgrace, Azazel stood up with another bow before turning to leave. Dragging the fat man behind him, the Ultranaut picked him up over his shoulder to make less a mess. Eyes continued to watch him with still gasping as if they had never seen such a thing. It was funny, but the soldier had to keep the amusement deep inside. Whatever had caused him to see the emperor as his father was a problem, one for the future as well.
 
Ingrid L’lerim
The Red Witch; Emperor's right hand; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard
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Objective: Festivals: Noble Ball
Location: Governor’s estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Dress/outfit | Mask
Tag: AMCO AMCO | Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe | Open
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She may have been talking to Adrian, but she was also paying attention to her surroundings, as professional harm. Thanks to this she heard that someone - she thought it was the Emperor - mentioned the Blackwatch. For a moment, Ingrid looked at the Emperor questioningly and telepathically sent a message to his master in the way she learned from him:

<”Do you need me, my Lord?”> she asked without words from Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe .

She had already turned back to Adrian during the question. It was also professional harm, she was suspicious, so she had to bring up the subject like that. She wasn't so good yet to spy on the other's emotions with the Force, especially that the man was much stronger than her, so it was left to do that from the words. And they were reassuring, she nodded after them.

”Indeed my Lord, good to hear that!” she agreed.

Fortunately, Adrian also agreed to the less formal conversation as well. She laughed softly at the man's response.

”Well… maybe I have a file about you, maybe not, who knows?” she asked playfully, then she continued a little more seriously. ”I see none of us can be completely detached from our work.”

The next short little "story" was very much liked by Ingrid, she laughed softly again. She didn't even think much about it, she said what she thought:

”I can imagine that, oh I wish I could saw their faces, when they figured out who you are, and your lawyers showed up!” she said. ”The most beautiful is that their own laws and rules tied their hands.” she said with a wicked smile.

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The smuggler looked up only to lock eyes with this spacer girl who looked just as bored as he was. Somehow, she seemed... oddly familiar, though he couldn't really place her. Just something in her posture, which suggested she knew him, or knew of him. Well, he did travel all over the galaxy, smuggling all sorts of things into all sorts of jurisdictions and he frequented a lot of shady cantinas of questionable reputation. Whoever she was, this girl looked like the type who would hang out in the same kinds of places, so it wouldn't be so surprising if she knew a previous client of his, or something like that.

"Oh, I would love to join the party, but unfortunately I'm here on business," he replied to her. "I've got a delivery to make and waiting for my client to show up," he said with the bored and frustrated tone of a merchant being made to wait on a transaction. "Say, have I seen you somewhere? I'm Will Westender, of Westender Freight and Shipping," he introduced himself, putting on his best salesman expression. "Me and my... associate, are purveyors of exotic goods and transporters of all manner of cargo, at competitive prices," he said, his mind drifting back to the witty and charming Karma Jayne Karma Jayne .

He still struggled to make sense of it all, but it was definitely not fair to refer to her as just his copilot. Whatever it was, she was more than just a business associate to him, even if he couldn't quite find suitable words to describe their relationship, or explain why she got under his skin so often and so easily. But with a potential customer here, this was not the time or place to think about whatever complicated thing was going on between him and Karma, so he hastily cleared his mind and forced himself to focus on the present.

Pointing behind him with a thumb, he continued. "And this, behind me, is the Firebird," he said, talking about the small, sleek-looking freighter, a heavily modified KS-5700, outfitted with larger engines and some sort of docking rig which held an X-Wing suspended under its hull, but otherwise a fairly common model in the Unknown Regions. "Fastest ship in the galaxy. Tell me, miss, what can I do for you?"

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Objective: 1 Noble Ball Festival
Wearing:
Black and silver robes. The mask of a dragons face.
shruuk (across back)
Nearby: (that I can tell) Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim AMCO AMCO Azazel Taliss
Interacting: Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe

Nexus considered the requirements of its intelligence. Yes it seemed it would be best to raise the bar for it. That would require additional alterations to be made, especially due to the requirement of breeding purposes. It was one thing to simply alter a creature, but what was more important was changing the offspring. If you could create a line then the entire species stood a greater chance of stability. True semi-sentience might not be required, but it might still be very useful for the purposes of telepathy. There was a positive here, the personell he wanted to use would be force sensitive. That put a considerable ease on the power of telepathy the creature needed to have. A creature that could itself initiate telepathic imagery was more difficult when it wasn't completely sentient. However, with a force sensitive operator, that made life easy.

He suggested splicing it in some way with a Tuk'ata. Nexus let out a hum in thought. Yes, the Tuk'ata were one option. The Vornskyr could also produce interesting results of added in. However, the more you added in of force sensitive races the more risk you ran of conflicting urges or powers. So while he could do it, that was not what he was asked to do. The Tuk'ata would certainly work. Unfortunately the Ikotchi and Anzati would be out of reach. Nexus shrugged as he finished, "Very well, Tuk'ata can work as a sufficient basis for their force sensitivity. We'll only have need of one, so that should make it a little bit of an easier search. From there we can simply copy it's design and copy it down for future use. The creature should survive the process. And can serve for future tests or information if necessary. Though...if you do happen to discover any Ikotchi who could serve for study purposes. I believe they could prove useful. Scouts are one things, but I would love to recreate their telepathic abilities in the military. We have telepaths who work as orginizers during battle, extremely increase effeciency and communication. But force sensitives numbers are limited, if we increased the number of natural born telepaths, we could have an entire segment of the military devoted purely to non-spoken communications."

Yes, there was no need to tell the man this. But, Nexus was like many Vran. He enjoyed science. He enjoyed the feeling of growth and discovery. And add onto that the prospect of increased military efficiency, even if it resulted in more power to the Eternal Empire, well it was just exciting. He doubted he'd get that chance...yet. However he would hardly limit himself to the laws of the Eternal Empire, but that was not something he'd ever say aloud. If he got the chance with an Ikotchi, he had very strong considerations for their use. Secret or not.

Then the two were interrupted, Nexus felt the fear of the man dragged forwards. He looked at the creature, fat bleeding man dragged by Azazel Taliss. He raised an eyebrow however as he mentioned it was an assassin,
What awful security measures. He could easily have a bomb imbedded in his ridiculous stomach, or be filled with a disease. he thought, instinctively glancing over his shoulder. And reminded himself that he would have a full scan done of himself later. And meditate. However that response was nothing to the grin that emerged across his face, as he repeated the words in a murmur, "Daddy Bear, heh." he stared at the man, that partial grin of amusement at the mans choice of words remaining across his face as Tacitus responded. He barely even hesitated. And only a week of latrine duties, a quiet chuckle from the shapeshifter, "I know your people, and your culture, are different than ours. With very clear variations of results in skills and technology. As well as order of things. But is a week of latrine duty the result of both those actions, or solely the choice of words? Whether or not you have any fear of assassins isn't my concern. However, if these rebels were even remotely more dedicated to your death, dragging an assassin through a crowd can spell the death of dozens. Death is such an easier thing when you know how to create life."
 
Objective: BYOO

Lori couldn't help but give an amused smile as Will Westender Will Westender claimed that he'd love to join the party. That didn't appear to be the case. He looked better suited to drink heavily in a cantina than in some festival likethis. Not even a stuffy ballroom seemed to suit him. But then again, looks could be deceiving, for she was a former Princess of Commenor, and there were plenty of times in her youth when she had to attend fanciful events.

But that was all over now. Now she was just a rebel with a cause.

As he introduced himself, Lori smirked a little. It seemed as though Will was competition for she too was in the shipping business. Though she didn't have her own company. "Captain Lori of...well, private sector really. This here is my co-pilot Arla. You might have seen me around. But then again, I could just have one of those faces...."

Arla stood to the side and slightly behind Lori, arms folded across her chest and dressed like any other no-nonsense spacer. She studied will closely and when Will wasn't looking, she was eyeing his ship.

It wasn't until Will mentioned the name of his ship that the recognition of just what kind of client he was waiting for dawned on Lori. "Well my own ship is pretty fast. Could give yours a run for her money. I've got her in the shop getting a few tweaks added to her. She got a little banged up on Endor." She put a certain amount of emphasis on the moon's name, if only to give him the hunt that that was where she had seen him before. Lori scratched behind her right ear, knowing that spies could be anywhere listening in. "Trouble started down there that easily eclipsed what was going on nearby in the same system. Some slaves rebelled against their captors and regained their freedom. If only such things happened more often..."
 
Objective 1A: Mingle with the aristocracy.
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Gildenweave Suit, Shadow Mask
Writing With: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Post Number VI
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Chuckling softly, he shook his head, shadows bobbing slightly with the movement. "It seems not - though in my case, it's hardly a cause for woe; truth be told, I'm rarely as content as I am when pushing at the boundaries of possibility or creating new life."

Her position, he would imagine, was less lovely - so many variables to account for, so many threats and so many potential solutions; it must be quite stressful, by all accounts, though he supposed his working life had its downsides too - anomalous specimens, for one.

Goodness knows he'd been forced to sterilise more than one lab from orbit during his rather eventful career.

Briefly turning his attention to the nearby commotion - daddy bear, heh - he just as quickly dismissed it as a non-issue. Just another would-be assassin with no hope of success, though it alarmed him that the man had been permitted to get close enough to disturb the festivities.

"Aha, yes! So bound by the laws of lesser men, these Jedi. It is as if they cannot decide whether to be humble monks of conquering warlords and so flail about somewhere in the middle."
 
Objective: 1B
Location: In a tree
Tags: VanceCaydence VanceCaydence
Attire: Dress

Swinging her legs lightly, Taozi set with her back against the dark trunk of the tree, and took another sip as she felt eyes upon her. Looking down below, she noticed a man in black looking up at her confused, then down at the jug in his hand, and a soft laugh escaped her lips. Of course it would be a drunk who spotted her first... Though it seemed as though he was questioning on if she was even real. Humming quietly, Taozi debated on if this truly counted as her being found.

After all, if the man below didn't think she was real, then no one else knew where she was, right?

Taking another sip, Taozi wondered where Xiao and Feng were. Probably trying to find their missing Alor, no doubt.
 
Ingrid L’lerim
The Red Witch; Emperor's right hand; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard
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Objective: Festivals: Noble Ball
Location: Governor’s estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Dress/outfit | Mask
Tag: AMCO AMCO | Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe | Open
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Ingrid really only had one basic file about Adrian, with the well-known thing, nothing extra or too important data. Ones that anyone can find out about if you follow a little, nothing you really need to spy on. But she enjoyed this little game between Adrian and herself. She continued to smile, while she listened to Adrian's answer. In the end she shook her head playfully

”As I said: who knows? A lady always keeps her secrets” she answered playfully.

She was hellishly good at keeping secrets. It seemed to Ingrid that the annoying little interlude had also caught Adrian's attention for a moment. She suppressed the urge to go after the man and simply break his neck for his impudence. She thought the man had escaped this thing too easily. Maybe the Emperor didn’t want a scandal this evening. She could only agree with that. Nodded at the man’s answer.

”Sometimes I can’t imagine at all how they can stay on the Light Side. They are much worse than us. They remained sighted and they were stuck in self-glorification due to the fact they were better than us…” she sighed.

She didn't want to bore the other with that. She thought about something for a few moments, unable to read it from her face.

”Would you like to dance?” she finally asked.

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Objective 1A and 1B: Business with the Aristocracy / Celebrate with the Plebians
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb


Opportunity never waited on anyone. A willing vassal to the Eternal Empire, such as Lanteeb, meant business contracts were ripe for the taking. So when Darth Tacitus put on the event to celebrate the annexation of the Lanteeb system in the form of a noble ball, Malicar could not resist. Interstellar Shipping had been eyeing Lanteeb for some time once whispers began to circulate that it was next on the Eternal Empire’s list of planets to “visit”. It was well known for its Damotite ore, which was replaced in demand by the more advanced and stable trenomite. However, this was an opportunity—there was a ready, cheap, and plentiful supply of Damotite right here on Lanteeb. Naboo had generated technology that could dependably refine Damotite to a useful, stable ore—and this Damotite was used to produce Plasma—which had many different uses of interest to Interstellar Shipping. In truth, this evening was about celebrating, but business never slept, nor did opportunity…

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After an hour of schmoozing the corporate owners and government controlled Damotite mines, they were elated at the possibility of a buyer for one of their most plentiful resources. Malicar was happy to oblige. Being able to produce its own plasma had huge beneficial financial implications for the future plans of Interstellar Shipping, especially with the growth of the Interstellar Starship Technologies subsidiary. Alas success came in the form of charm and credits. The Chiss knew that he would have to overcome their deep-seated distrust and dislike of outsiders, especially those were not human. But most humans understood two concepts with clarity—flattery and credits…at least most of the galaxy.

Needing a break from crunching numbers and forced smiles, the shipping tycoon plucked a wine glass off of a tray that made its way around the throngs of guests. As he passed Darth Tacitus and Vyra, he raised a glass with a charming smile, intent on not interrupting their conversation. In fact, he was tired of the small talk completely. If he were going to do business and spend time on Lanteeb, he wanted to see what it was really like. That meant taking to the streets. As such, after a few last minute conversations, the shipping mogul slipped away from the palace...

Taking public transit downtown, Malicar gave his guards the night off. While there was always the danger of an assassination attempt, it was a calculated risk—which meant he still carried his concealed weapon, but he felt confident enough to strike out alone this eve. The Chiss was pleased to see all of the denizens so festive, drinking, socializing and all waiting for the fireworks at midnight.

As he just received his wine order from one of the corner bars and scanned the area with his glowing red eyes, he caught a familiar face—a human female he had seen on other planets when the Eternal Empire made their presence known. She had a unique look to her, so he didn't forget the face.

A citizen? Merchant? Scars…combatant?

His curiosity and the sight of someone familiar won the day. Walking over, a server passed him by and he smoothly plucked a glass of wine off the tray—she was none the wiser. He put the glass of wine down in front of the human woman and walked around the table opposite her as she ate the doroon. It was clear the full glass of wine was for her, whether she decided to take it or not.

“This will certainly sound cliché, but I have seen you before many times. Perhaps on Kalidan?”

While giving her a moment to respond, he added, “Forgive me, I am Malicar. Pleasure.”

The Chiss did not seem bothered by her scars or transplants at all. In fact, it was clear that in this urban setting, despite his high credit outfit and gentile poise, he did not seem like a “fish out of water” at all. It was as if he had been part of this community for years, or at least that was the appearance…

Vyra Silara Vyra Silara
Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe
Vidalu Na'an Vidalu Na'an
 
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Wanderer Lost, Wanderer Found
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She smiled with a little mischief, fondly remembering another festival that seemed like ages ago. "We could always go crash the fancy party and shock them with a dance again."

Na'an snorted around the spoon now back in her mouth. "Oh, gods, that'd be awful, wouldn't it?" she said as she withdrew it, already going for more. "All the stuffed shirts wetting themselves at the sound of real music. And the Emperor--the Emperor, he'd...."

The spoon paused again, halfway to her mouth; Na'an examined it intently, the ghost of a frown crossing her face.

She'd done all she could, in the months after their arrival on Kalidan, to avoid being in the same room as the Eternal Emperor, let alone get noticed by him. Fortunately, it hadn't been as hard as she'd anticipated--he didn't seem to care about her at all--but it had been so hard to explain at first. How could she possibly put what had happened in that room in words? Even recalling it sent tingling lines down the small of her back...but if Leigh and Adelle didn't understand, they had at least had the grace not to doubt her to her face.

"I'd rather not think about what he'd do, actually," she said roughly, drowning her thoughts in another mouthful of doroon. She forced herself to dwell on the taste of it instead, the smooth creamy sweetness spreading across her tongue. This was the moment she wanted to be in right now--not Endor or Bakura or Kalidan. Not on the moment that still on occasion found her in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Just this moment, with sugar in her mouth, the scent of flowers in the air and her loved ones at the table. "But this? This is nice," she continued to change the subject. "I didn't think people still ate doroon in the Unknown regions--"

His curiosity and the sight of someone familiar won the day. Walking over, a server passed him by and he smoothly plucked a glass of wine off the tray—she was none the wiser. He put the glass of wine down in front of the human woman and walked around the table opposite her as she ate the doroon. It was clear the full glass of wine was for her, whether she decided to take it or not.

“This will certainly sound cliché, but I have seen you before many times. Perhaps on Kalidan?”

While giving her a moment to respond, he added, “Forgive me, I am Malicar. Pleasure.”

And of course the moment could never last. Na'an sighed and put the spoon down to address the Chiss, deliberately ignoring the glass of wine he'd placed before her. "Na'an, and my companion here is Adelle Bastiel," she said coolly, gently stressing the words that acknowledged the person he'd clearly chosen to ignore. If only she could safely do the same for Leigh. "The pleasure is ours...although I must say, it's been a while since someone claimed to recognize me. Most people from Kalidan don't really bother with handmaidens when the Empress is around."



 
Objective 1A: Mingle with the aristocracy.
Location: Governor's Estate, Lanteeb
Equipment: Gildenweave Suit, Shadow Mask
Writing With: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Post Number VII
---

Secrets. Everyone had them, everyone wanted them - he wondered which of Ingrid's was the most exciting.

Chuckling warmly at her agreement - it seemed their individual assessments of the Jedi ideology was similarly damning; truly, it served only to stamp out the potential for greatness in the uniquely gifted - he nodded. "Ever riding the highest of horses, aren't they?"

Shadows retracting long enough for him to flash her an unnaturally perfect smile, Adrian extended his hand in response, softly uncalloused skin making it clearer than ever that he had never had to work a single day of physical labour in his life.

It had been a while since he had danced, but having spent his teens amongst the aristocracy of Serenno, the motions came naturally... as naturally as the more primal motions of the galaxy's most exclusive nightclubs. "Tell me, my lady - with all these duties, is there any time left for yourself?"
 
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Na'an snorted around the spoon now back in her mouth. "Oh, gods, that'd be awful, wouldn't it?" she said as she withdrew it, already going for more. "All the stuffed shirts wetting themselves at the sound of real music. And the Emperor--the Emperor, he'd...."

The spoon paused again, halfway to her mouth; Na'an examined it intently, the ghost of a frown crossing her face.

She'd done all she could, in the months after their arrival on Kalidan, to avoid being in the same room as the Eternal Emperor, let alone get noticed by him. Fortunately, it hadn't been as hard as she'd anticipated--he didn't seem to care about her at all--but it had been so hard to explain at first. How could she possibly put what had happened in that room in words? Even recalling it sent tingling lines down the small of her back...but if Leigh and Adelle didn't understand, they had at least had the grace not to doubt her to her face.

"I'd rather not think about what he'd do, actually," she said roughly, drowning her thoughts in another mouthful of doroon. She forced herself to dwell on the taste of it instead, the smooth creamy sweetness spreading across her tongue. This was the moment she wanted to be in right now--not Endor or Bakura or Kalidan. Not on the moment that still on occasion found her in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Just this moment, with sugar in her mouth, the scent of flowers in the air and her loved ones at the table. "But this? This is nice," she continued to change the subject. "I didn't think people still ate doroon in the Unknown regions--"



And of course the moment could never last. Na'an sighed and put the spoon down to address the Chiss, deliberately ignoring the glass of wine he'd placed before her. "Na'an, and my companion here is Adelle Bastiel," she said coolly, gently stressing the words that acknowledged the person he'd clearly chosen to ignore. If only she could safely do the same for Leigh. "The pleasure is ours...although I must say, it's been a while since someone claimed to recognize me. Most people from Kalidan don't really bother with handmaidens when the Empress is around."



Over the rim of her cup, Adelle measured the Chiss before them. Na'an did play a high-profile role in the grand scheme of things, being one of the Empress' non-Kalidan bodyguards, but she usually avoided notice due to her size and silence. The fact that someone, an apparently wealthy someone judging from his clothes, recognized her made Adelle's stomach a little queasy. She tossed a glance over at Leigh before setting down her cup, nodding as Na'an introduced her.

"I would almost think that's the point of her handmaidens," Adelle said offhand. "But you do wear an eyepatch and how many of her handmaidens need one of those?"

The Chiss--Malicar--seemed right at home in the commoner side of the festival, though again, his attire belied that idea. Someone familiar with both nobility and poverty; did he play both sides of the coin, she wondered, or did he rebel against certain aristocratic ideals. Knowing what few Chiss she did, it was most likely the first. An opportunist with no real loyalties unless to himself or a wealthy client. Could the rebellion use him?

Could they even trust him?

She'd leave that to Leigh. Leigh had a much better track record with that and Adelle didn't want to accidentally screw up the rebellion by enlisting the help of some turncoat. But maybe, just maybe, she could find some lightsiders. The green planet still lingered in the back of her mind and the rebellion could use some help of the mystical kind.

"I think I'm going to get some of that doroon myself, maybe wander around a bit," she said to Na'an. She stood and offered a slight bow to the Chiss.

"Malicar. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Now to find the doroon that Na'an had enjoyed so much. And maybe the Force would bring someone her way.



Vidalu Na'an Vidalu Na'an | LE-03 (Leigh) LE-03 (Leigh) | Malicar Malicar
 

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